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Daniel's Journal | by Daniel Charles Thomas |
12 December 2001. Wednesday. |
Dogges still whine today outside the door. They had a difficult time last night for the rockets and fireworks of Guadalupe. Dogs have such sensitive ears, you know....
Tere had her opera class so we didn't see each other last night. I went out walking for several hours to seek the blessed virgin. Early in the evening went by the cathedral at Ninos and 2nd. Slipped in for a few prayers. Crowded. Very crowded. But nothing like it would be several hours later when I returned with the procession.
I walked up Revolution Avenue. Said hello to Pedro and Miguel at their bar door. Yes, they said, it's the night of Guadalupe. Muy tipico, no? Si. I pointed out that fireworks were exploding somewhere up the street. Said I was going to go look for them. On up the avenue. Bought a cheap hamburger at the minimarket on 7th. Sat down at their outdoor tables. Watched the fireworks moving down the street a few blocks away. Finished my sandwich and went off to chase the rockets. That is how I finally joined the procession and followed it through downtown, back to the cathedral.
The procession. Ah, what an experience. Watching the crowds walking and singing. Gazing at the big trucks pulling flatbed trailers decked out in representations of the apparition of the Virgin to Juan Diego. Ah. Each truckbed stage followed by mariachi bands walking along with crowds of singing pilgrims. Ah....
"La Guadalupana, la Guadalupana, la Guadalupana..."
Growling tractor trucks pulling it all, and at the end, a phalanx of more truck heads without trailers, guardian beasts ushering forward the pilgrims, the procession. Behind them, vendor carts scurrying forward, hot dog cart, churro cart, tamale burrito cart, three little vendors chasing the procession like a sweet, tasty tail.
I went forward toward its front end, up past every member. Scurrying down the sidewalks of Constitution, past every member of all the long procession, past each big monster truck pulling its staged recreations, Guadalupe and Juan Diego and maguey spikes and cactus brambles and dancing Aztecs and Miguel Hidalgo ringing his bell, then each little pickup truck and panel van, even a couple forklifts and hand-carts, and the hundreds of walking mariachis and candle-carrying people, the marching drum corps, all of it, it is all one gigantic offering by the produce workers and market business people, a huge, twisting, turning procession snaking its way through the crowded streets of downtown. Growling trucks shine spotless in squeaky-clean dark paint and gleaming chrome. On the flatbed trailers behind, arrangements of fruits and vegetables appear in the recreations of the miracle. A young woman, the virgin herself, Mother of God, robed and haloed, golden spears of maguey shining around her body. At her feet, Juan Diego the Indian kneels, gazing up in quiet wonder, holding up his cloak where he gathered the winter roses which transformed into the sacred image.
Escorted by motorcycle cops and shooting rockets, the procession finally arrives at the cathedral. All the tractor trailers growl along second street. The many offerings of flowers and fruits are unloaded by hand and carried into the cathedral to the altar while the jammed together crowd applauds and sighs....
Singing, applauding, fireworks. Muy tipico. Very moving. The living breath of a nation, Mexico. La Virgen de Guadalupe.
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